


Liquid Galaxies

by weirdfishy



Series: fishy's flash fiction friday fills ;) [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Other, flash fiction friday prompt, potion-making gone...askew, prompt: dipped in silver (#89)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29733819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdfishy/pseuds/weirdfishy
Summary: A witch, and a potion that was meant to be simple. It wasn’t. Melinyl stumbled upon the wrong potion. The universe’s power wasnotto be trifled with.
Series: fishy's flash fiction friday fills ;) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2191836
Kudos: 1





	Liquid Galaxies

**Author's Note:**

> I...am very proud of this bc it was borne of a few words a generator spit out
> 
> Enjoy~ 
> 
> :))

Melinyl stared. She stared at the softly forming whorls of Egyptian blue, rising out of bubbling, lemon-yellow liquid. She was _sure_ this wasn’t how the potion was supposed to look, but she was too enraptured to care. Her lilac eyes gazed almost longingly into the cauldron, and a dark hand came up to brush her frizzy hair out of her face when the wind picked up.

She was standing in the middle of a field, short rushes grazing her dress and apron, the moon above her in gleaming and pock-marked beauty. The breeze drifting through the open space was sweet and lilting, carrying the snores of the rest of the coven and everything around her. 

Melinyl couldn’t hear it though, the potion - which was meant to be the perfect execution of the simplest transformative potion - was whispering to her, begging her to reach in and pull out treasures she could only have dreamed of, or to tip the pot and watch in awe as the colors mixed with the rust-red moisture of dirt and pushed down fragile stalks.

She _ached_ to touch it, to see the no doubt profitable results of unintelligible promises delivered in whispers of a life and magic emanating only from the heated pot in front of her. It was _calling_ to her, _telling_ her to do _something_ \- _anything_ with it. To find out all of its properties and unleash it to the world. Melinyl wanted to _respond_. She wanted to _know_.

In one hand, she held a feather from her own night-eagle, its blue deeper and darker than the whorls still marking the yellow. It was meant for the testing of the potion, which should have made the feather into two at a single drop’s worth, but Melinyl couldn’t help but lift the feather above the liquid dramatically high, poised to drop it and be awed.

She let go.

Melinyl let go of the feather’s smooth barb, watched it float side to side, down, down, down- until it was just above the lip of the wrought iron, right before it-

Golden light burst from the cauldron, and the air stilled. The voice ceased as well, but Melinyl didn’t register it. Her hands were gripped onto the lip of the pot, unharmed against what should have been heated metal, and her face tilted _into_ the light, a dazzling delight stretched from her lips as her eyes widened.

The overwhelming beacon faded, leaving Melinyl’s reddish-purple hair brushing the surface of the mixture, the feather no-where to be found.

The liquid, once a bubbling yellow-and-blue, now rested as a stagnant, visibly thick concoction that looked to be made of silvery stardust, moonlight, and the stuff of nebulae. Its scent had changed from something of baked bread to the sharp tang of blood and wet grass, and Melinyl was _enamored_.

One of her hands released the pot, and made its way to the center of what outshone the shine of melted silver and the moon combined, palm level, before she plunged her hand in with one swift motion, her closeness meaning the mysterious potion crept up to her elbow.

Melinyl shivered, the contact sending sparks throughout her entire body, and her unbroken gaze into the pot broke. Her head tilted back, the lilac of her eyes giving way to whites before her dark eyelids covered it all. A slight sigh slipped past her lips.

It was _invigorating_ , this magic, it gave her new _life_ , gave her new _meaning_.

She breathed, in, and out, soaking in everything before her unhurried breaths became labored, like the mixture was trying to squeeze _her_ life out and replace it with its own.

Melinyl shuddered, the wave-like power threatening to drown her, so she pulled her arm out, the sludge weighing the limb down, not wanting to let go, her other hand gripping the cauldron so hard the skin around her knuckles lightened and her brow scrunched together. Her arm was released with a deep belch, the sound cutting through the absolute silence.

It was replaced by the _thump-thump_ of Melinyl’s heart, and her short breaths coming in gasps.

Her knees wobbled before giving out, depositing her on the dirt and grass. Melinyl rushed to wipe off the silver of the galaxies onto her apron before tossing the fabric into the pot and letting it sink.

There was so much _power_ vibrating its way into every crevice of her being, and it was _too much too fast_.

Melinyl passed out, silver-and-gold sparks dancing along her skin as she lay, vulnerable, seen only by the creators of dangerous, brilliant and bright liquid galaxies.

~

_Pau_

_2/27/21_

**Author's Note:**

> thank you ever so for reading!
> 
> I hope you liked it enough to kudos, comment, and maybe even bookmark! 
> 
> [pls reblog the original post! (if you have tumblr ofc)](https://weirdfishy.tumblr.com/post/644269839603646464/liquid-galaxies)


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